


To Ask a Blessing

by Lady_Juno (InkFire_Scribe)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Exile, F/M, Implied Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Interracial Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkFire_Scribe/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: Kili just wants his uncle to say it's okay. Even that seems to be asking too much.





	1. Exile

Stunned silence rang like the tolling of an unheard bell. For a long moment, not a soul stirred, each dwarf still as though the silence had added them to the ranks of statues, gaudy in lifelike color against the glossy black stone of the walls. 

"No." Fili's voice cracked, breaking over the word like an army against the Mountain. Kili had been looking at their uncle. Now, brown eyes filling with confusion, he turned slightly so his gaze rested on his brother.

"No? Fee, you have to understand - I  _ love _ her."

"You're wrong." 

Kili flinched as the blond's hand moved to rest on one of his many knives. Thorin would have reacted badly, regardless of the audience. Kili had ensured there was no one present that wasn't a member of the Company. Balin would be disappointed, Dwalin would have throttled him, but he was busy with the new recruits for the Mountain Guard. But...  _ Fili? _ The young dwarf set his jaw, determined to at least appear like he knew what he was getting into.

"I'm not. I love her. She's my One. I  _ will _ marry her. I only ask your blessing."

"Blessing?" Thorin's voice was hardly more than a low rumble, his face as blank as the stone around them. "You wish my blessing on your union with one of those oathbreakers? One of Thranduil's folk, who turned their backs on us when we needed them most?"

"But they didn't! When the orcs came and the Mountain would have fallen, when Dain's folk fought and died before our gates, the elves fought, too! They fought with Dain, they marched to Dale and defended the women and children!" Kili's tone was becoming rough with more emotion than was strictly permissible, but the young dwarf didn't seem to care. He slashed at the air with one hand, as if that might cut through the lump in his throat. "You can't hold that grudge forever, Uncle. Not every elf can be held responsible for the choice of one." There was little hope of prevailing against Thorin. When the King Under the Mountain used that tone, he was deep in age-old hatred and nothing could move him. 

"And where's your One now," asked Fili in a confrontational growl. "Does she hide while you fight her battles?"

"She's not stupid. We knew you would react badly. At least... we knew Uncle Thorin would. Brother, I thought you would understand." Kili looked up at the blond and took a step forward, his boot resting on the lowest step of a dais. "Fili, please… at least try."

"What is there to understand?" Fili's voice carried anger and betrayal, his gaze dark and distant. "I told you that you shouldn't get in too deep. I told you it would never work."

"But it  _ is _ working! Brother, can't you see? Tauriel and I will be happy together!" Kili took another step toward the throne, then two. Fili stood on Thorin's left, and even as the blond moved to meet his brother, their uncle stopped him. The King's blue eyes fixed on Kili, smoldering with anger under his dark brows.

"You ask for our blessing. The answer is no. If you insist on this... this  _ treason _ , then so be it. Henceforth, you are no heir of mine, nor my subject. You and your elf-wench can find shelter with the spiders in Thranduil's kingdom."

"Uncle!" Kili's eyes widened, and his next step didn't quite reach the final stair. He extended a hand, as though pleading. "She  _ saved your life, _ and this is how you repay her?"

"She stole you from me. A life for a life." Thorin's tone was as cold as the ice in his eyes. "You are dead to me."

Kili swayed slightly, overwhelmed. He turned, as unsteady as one drunk. "Brother?"

"You are not my brother." Fili stepped back again, folding his arms tightly over his chest. "I have no brother."

It was a killing blow. The dark-haired dwarf staggered, his heart threatening to burst under the pressure of absolute rejection. He hadn't understood before now how terrible exile truly was. But as his brother and uncle, the dwarves he had admired since before he knew how to say their names, looked past him as though he didn't exist, Kili knew the pain of living death. 

* * *

When at last he stumbled into the sunlight, Tauriel was waiting to catch him. The guards at the gate tactfully ignored the elf, sparing an occasional pitying glance for the former prince of Erebor.

"What happened,  _ melleth nin _ ?" Tauriel's clear voice, made sharp by worry, cut at Kili's heart, and he closed his eyes briefly, one hand clasping hers. It was too much even to try to support himself. He accepted her lithe frame, allowing her to take his weight.

"We're both outcasts, now." Kili couldn't bare to say the words louder than a breath, but he knew that she heard.

The elleth sighed quietly, like a whispered song in the branches of an ancient tree. When he opened his eyes again to gaze up into her face, the red-haired elf was watching him with sadness lining her expression, making her ageless visage somehow older. 

"We'll find a new home." 

"Together," he added, and he felt her body react against him. He looked up into her face, and saw the faintest of smiles curving her lips. 

"Yes. Together." She met his gaze, and some of the tension in her eyes seemed to ease. "I will never leave you. I swear it ." 

 


	2. Rivendell by Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili and Tauriel finally arrive in Rivendell, and there is a surprise waiting for them there.

"Please, sit and rest. Have a cup of tea." The elf set a tray between them, eyeing Tauriel anxiously. The elleth was all but transparent with exhaustion, but Kili lacked the energy to worry about it too much.

"Oh, and there was a letter that arrived for you some days ago from Erebor." The elf produced a thick envelope from her pocket and offered it to the Dwarf. Kili eyed it with surprise.

When he didn't take it immediately, the Elf gave him a concerned look. Kili took the letter slowly, and noticed that his hand was shaking. What more could they take away from him?

Tauriel sat up. Her spine was like a limp noodle, and it was an effort to force it to bear her weight properly. "Open it," she said encouragingly. "I can't imagine they would have sent a letter if it wasn't important." The elleth's voice wasn't as smooth as he remembered, but Kili gave her a smile, breaking the seal with a broad thumb.

The letter was at least two pages long and covered in the sharp, clear runes of Fili's hand. He didn't have Balin's flair, or the exaggerated slant of Thorin's handwriting, and Kili felt the runes like a stomachache, reading them slowly.

_Kili,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. You, and your wife. I know our parting was not on the best of terms, and that it was painful for you, but it was necessary. Uncle has refused even to speak of you since you left us, which makes it very hard to make him feel sympathetic to your cause. I am trying, though, and some of the others are on your side as well. Bofur and Nori and_ _Dwalin_ _, if you'll believe it._

_In any case, you still have friends here, Brother. I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I look forward to that day. Life without you here is dull. Endless meetings and treaties and trade agreements and a constant parade of nobles' daughters trying to impress me into marrying them. It's exhausting. At least if you were here, I would be able to complain about them properly._

_Please stay safe, Brother. The men from Laketown say the orcs are moving west. Toward Gundabad, no doubt, but no one really knows. I don't know what you have in the way of supplies, and I find myself worrying over you, even though there's nothing I can do. See? You're a terrible influence on me. If it weren't for you, I would be as perfect as Uncle! Too bad my hair's the wrong color._

_If you make it that far, could you stop in and say hi to Bilbo for me? Of all the folk in Middle-earth, I think she might be the one that could persuade Uncle to change his mind. I've written a letter for her, but it's hard to find a caravan heading toward Ered Luin these days. Seems like everyone wants to go the other direction. I sent yours by Raven, because I remembered that Lord Elrond was friends with the birds. Hopefully, it gets there in time._

_Here's hoping. Missing you like my own left arm._

_Fili_

When Kili finished, he passed the letter wordlessly to Tauriel, who looked down at it with a slight frown.

"What does it say?" When Kili gestured to the parchment, the elleth's eyebrows lowered a fraction. "Kili, love, I can't read your runes." He had promised to teach her, but their lessons had been confined to the spoken word, as neither of them had been carrying a surplus of writing supplies when they fled Erebor, and since then there hadn't been an abundance of nights where either of them had energy enough for teaching (or learning) an entirely new alphabet.

After a moment's pause, during which Kili looked somewhat sheepish, the dwarf started to recount what his brother had written.

Tauriel leaned back in her seat, tugging thoughtfully at a lock of red hair. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"They are still your family."

Kili hesitated, then slowly smiled. It still hurt, in that hollow place inside where Uncle's words had lodged like knives. But there was hope now. Hope, because his brother still loved him. Still thought he was worth thinking about.

"Our family," he corrected quietly. "What is mine is yours, and if they won't have you, then they don't deserve you."


	3. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis arrives at Erebor, and does not like what she finds.

The Mountain loomed over them like a sleeping giant, hair worn hoary by the years since her departure. Dis gazed up at her grandfather's kingdom, straining to remember clearly her last glimpse of it. She had blurred recollections of being carried, of the smell of sulfur and scorched stone, and of frightened voices. She remembered the leaving, but not her old home. This place had once been her home. And now it would be her home again. 

Setting her jaw, the dwarrowdam let out a long sigh through her nose and finally lowered her gaze to the welcoming committee waiting for them near the huge gates. It took some time to reach them, but the time gave her an opportunity to think of what she would say to her sons. Happily, one of them was standing with the honor guard, grinning at her like a fool from behind his thick blond beard. Good gracious. Had his beard really thickened that much? 

"Amad!" He reached up to help her down from her pony, which she accepted gratefully. As soon as her boots were on solid stone again, she dealt him such a box to the ears as to send him reeling. 

"Don't you 'Amad' me!" she barked. "You go traipsing off with your uncle into Mahal-only-knows where, never a letter or a note or anything. Then suddenly a bloody Raven shows up on my doorstep with a message from you asking me to travel all the way across the bleeding world for a  _visit?_ Boy, if you know anything about what's coming to you, you're going to wish you'd learned your manners better." 

Fili was looking sheepish, though she noted he didn't seem at all repentant. Either she'd lost her touch, or he was growing up. Maybe both. 

With a snort, Dis dusted her skirts vigorously, shaking the heavy velvet to free it of travel dust. "Where's your brother? I need to give his ears a good boxing, too." 

The silence that followed her question was too intense to be anything but serious. The dwarrowdam looked up sharply, and saw Fili's expression change swiftly from one of pain to being as cold and closed off as Thorin's. 

"Kili isn't with us anymore, Amad." 

Dis felt her eyes narrow. He didn't say that Kili was "gone," or had "left," or "fell." Just that he wasn't with them. That rang oddly in her ears, and didn't feel of death like another phrase might have. 

"What happened?" 

"We'll speak of it in private, Mother," he said formally. "Uncle is waiting for you inside." 

"Oh he is, is he?" Dis snatched a set of saddle bags from one of the servants passing her, and her oilcloth-wrapped ax from another, and stomped through the gate, doing a very good impression of a walking thunderstorm. 

"This is supposed to be a happy occasion," Fili reminded her, his cold facade cracking a little as he trotted to keep up with her. "Please don't behead our new king. It took a lot of effort to keep him alive this long." 

"If he wants to continue his reign, then he'll have some things to tell me that I ought to have known  _before_  I arrived." 

The walk from the front gate to the throne room was surprisingly short, and that only made her angrier. He was waiting for her in the  _throne room?_  Was she his sister, or a visiting dignitary? 

As soon as the doors opened, she saw his plan. There were more than two dozen nobles gathered in the room, and the floor had apparently been plated in gold. No, not plated - coated. The layer was at least six inches thick, or she was no judge of precious metals. It took more willpower than she wanted to use to stow her anger and lay down her burdens. A servant stepped forward to take her things, but Dis glared at the dwarrowdam so fiercely that the poor girl blushed and retreated. 

"Brother," she called, brushing hands over her travel-stained blouse as she approached. Some of the nobles were looking shocked, but she ignored them. "I didn't know our reunion would be so public." 

"There are many who are eager to meet the mother of my heir." Thorin stood from the throne. The crown he wore looked much like the one their grandfather had so cherished, and she thought it suited him. But she also hoped he didn't get too attached to it. 

It was only after she reached forward to clasp his hand in hers, intending to pull him in for a hug, that she realized the Dwarf was missing his right arm. Dis shifted quickly so she could take his left hand, which he offered readily. His grip was still strong, but she noticed that his cheeks and eyes seemed hollow in a way she didn't know how to deal with. This was not what she'd expected. 

"It's good to see you again, Dis," said Thorin in a low rumble, and gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You've been missed." 

Dis had to swallow the urge to demand where her younger son was. Kili wasn't here, but he obviously wasn't dead, or Fili's beard would have been shorn. After a minute, she gave his hand a squeeze and released it. 

"I've missed you, too, Brother. You and my sons." It was the most she could manage with any discretion, and she saw the effect immediately in the hardening of her brother's eyes. Yes, something had happened, and she would get to the bottom of it, one way or another. 

* * *

It was some time later when they were finally able to retreat to a private chamber for a brotherly mug of ale and a quiet chat. At least, that was what they told everyone else they would be doing. And maybe Thorin believed it, but if so, then he was a fool. 

As soon as the door was closed and they were alone in the little sitting room with the plush rugs and soft, overstuffed chairs and pretty wall hangings, Dis dropped her smile and turned on her brother with anger in her face. The weight of the saddle bags in one hand, and her ax in the other; that weight kept her grounded somehow, but only barely. 

"Now, I expect an explanation, Thorin. If you can't give me a really good reason why my Kili isn't here-"

Before she could finish her threat, Thorin was holding up his hand to stop her. 

"There's nothing to tell. He left us, and he's not coming back." He said it with such finality that for a moment, Dis was stunned into speechlessness. There was "nothing to tell"? Was that honestly all he was going to say? And he expected her to just accept that? For a split second, she considered swinging her ax at him, but that was unwise. It was a battle ax, after all, and even covered in oilcloth, it would be all too easy to strike a killing blow without meaning to. 

The throb of her heartbeat was like the ocean tide in her ears as she dropped the ax with a muffled clatter. Gripping her saddlebags with both hands, she heaved them about like a bolas and slung them straight into Thorin's unprotected face. The king toppled backward with a shout of protest and pain, but he had no chance to regain his feet. Even if he'd had both arms, it was unlikely he would have been able to fend off his sister, such was her rage. She pinned him down with her knees on either side of his ribcage, kneeling on his wrist as she pressed the bony knuckles of each hand under his chin; one hand against the soft skin under his tongue, and the other against his jugular. 

"Brother, you swore you would protect them. You swore a blood oath to me on my husband's grave that you would care for my sons. If I find you've broken your word to me, death will be too kind an end for you."

The silence stretched between them, growing too thin and tense for the close space. Stray hairs from Thorin's braids stirred in Dis' harsh breathing. The longer she had to wait for his answer, the more she suspected he had none. That he was a traitor. That she had been betrayed by her own brother. That was a pain deeper than she knew how to deal with. 

"He left," said Thorin at last. "He chose the Elves over his own kin. He is dead to me." The king's blue eyes slid away from her face, and she noticed that his crown had fallen when she'd knocked him down. It lay on the floor within arm's reach, tilted at an odd angle with one side up on the thick rug, and the other sitting on bare stone. 

"Where?" Dis heard herself demand an answer, while her mind was occupied with scrabbling for reasons. Why would Kili have chosen to side with the Elves? 

"I don't know." 

"Where?" She demanded again, and dealt him such a blow that his eyes unfocused for a moment. 

"I don't know!" This time he shouted the words, and in the ringing silence afterward, the door closed quietly. Fili was standing there, his expression strangely blank. 

"I received a note from Elrond last week, explaining that Kili and his wife arrived safely in Rivendell, but weren't planning to stay. I've not replied." His tone was flat, and Dis could tell he was hiding his true feelings deep. She didn't blame him for it, not with his uncle in such a tizzy, but it still hurt for her to see him like this. Then his words caught up with her. 

"Wife?" 

"One of the Elvenking's folk." Again, his tone was flat. Under her, Thorin made a noise that was half snort, half growl. 

Dis didn't know how to react. Her son was gone. Married to an Elf. Exiled from his home. She wanted him back. But... could she live with a blood-traitor, who chose an Outsider over his own kin? She thought of her husband, dead these many years in the assault on the gates of Moria. She remembered how he could enthrall her, persuade her to follow with only a glance, or to agree with him just by taking her hand. He had been a master manipulator - and she had loved him. He had been her One. 

Looking down at her brother, she saw the pain now naked on his face. The anger and betrayal, the desire for vengeance or for peace - whichever could be accomplished sooner. She saw it and she knew it for a reflection of what was in her own heart. 

But that didn't mean she thought him right. 

"You swore to care for my sons. Now you've exiled my baby boy, all because you were too stiff-necked to see there was any other option. The Mountain will know you've wronged me. And when I return with my son, you will look him in the eyes and tell him we are family."

"I will not have blood-traitors in my-"

Dis stopped him by punching him in the gut. Thorin groaned, and Dis finished for him. 

"I never said he would live here. I only said we are family. And no matter what he does, or says, or where he goes or who he's with - he is my son. Do you understand that? If you don't... then I will return to Ered Luin, and not come back." 

Thorin's blue eyes filled with overwhelming confusion and pain. For a second, Dis hated herself. She knew what he felt, and still she punished him for it. In a moment, she'd swung her weight off him and was kneeling at his side. 

"We are family, Thorin. No matter what you do. But that doesn't mean I'm happy with you." 


	4. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Dis is delayed by weather and misfortune.

The Raven landed on the back of a chair, turning one beady eye on the Elves that occupied the ledge. They were high above the valley floor, near one of the many waterfalls that fed the flourishing trees and many sculpted gardens in the terraces below. Rivendell was at the height of spring growth, tight buds bursting into full flower with each fresh minute. Elvensong rose in sweet harmony from below, but none of the three Elves on the stone porch stirred. Two were engaged in a game on a board of slate and quartz, with small pieces of black and white marble. Neither of them looked up from their board, apparently too absorbed in the strategy of the thing to notice their avian visitor. 

The third, however, was looking at the large bird, his grey eyes sharp with interest. In a moment, he had stood from his seat and moved on soundless feet to eh empty table where the bird perched. Even his flowing robe seemed to make no noise at all, swallowed by the rush of the water falling gracefully past their wide stone perch .

"How can we help you, my good Raven?" The Elf spoke politely and in accented Common Speech, but it took a minute for the bird to reply. It studied her with its glossy black head cocked to one side, a single beady eye focused on the ground-dweller. 

"I bear a message for Kili, son of Chali, and Tauriel of Mirkwood. Where can I find them?" The Raven's voice loud and raucous, though not as rough as one might expect of a bird so large. Leaning back and spreading her tail feathers the Raven fluffed the down of her ruff, showing the Elf a red-gold collar and a sealed cylinder secured under a large black jewel. 

The grey-eyed elf cast a glance back at the table where he had left his companions. Neither of them had moved. If they heard the Raven's voice, they showed no sign of it. 

"I believe Prince Kili and Lady Tauriel left at the last full moon. The Lord Erestor would be the one to ask - he's down in the House. Shall I descend with you?" 

"It will be faster if I go alone." The Raven spread her wings. Immediately, she caught a powerful gust from the winds carried by the waterfall, and in a second, she was propelled out over the Valley. Spiralling downward, the bird scanned the treetops until she saw the outline of a building. 

The feeling of time was pressing on her, and Takar thought to herself that if the Lady Dis received no reply, she might do something more violent than simply cursing. The winter had been too harsh for any of the Ravens to agree to risking passage over the Mountains, and the spring was getting old now. Rivendell was not easy to find, even from the air. 

When at last the lithe, dark-haired Erestor stood before her, she was resigned to the fact that her letter would not be delivered today. 

"Prince Kili and Lady Tauriel departed two weeks ago," said the Elf apologetically. "They were going west, toward the Shire and Ered Luin." 

"Tell me what road they took, then," croaked the Raven impatiently. "Until my letter is delivered, I cannot build my nest."

* * *

 

Tauriel eyed the door, and the expression on her face communicated a certain lack of confidence that might suggest she thought it would let her down when she trusted it the most. 

"What is it?" The halfling beside her, whose mop of curly honey-brown hair didn't even reach her shoulder, was trying not to laugh. Though she had covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes were crinkled and slanted with the smile that she couldn't see. They were kind eyes. She'd noticed that at Erebor, after the Battle. 

"Your door is tall enough for a Dwarf, maybe-"

"Dwarrow," corrected Kili. He was grinning, too, and Tauriel resigned herself to being a source of amusement for these two. 

"Right. Tall enough for a Dwarrow. But I don't see how I'll be able to stand comfortably anywhere in your home, Bilbo." The door came about to her shoulder. And though she had been assured that Gandalf had visited more than once, she couldn't imagine the Wizard had been any more comfortable with the proportions of a hobbit hole than she would be, considering he was several inches taller than she, even without his hat. 

"You'll be fine," Kili assured her and laughed a little as he reached forward to nudge the door open a little more. "Besides, we won't be standing inside - we're guests." 

"That's right," agreed Bilbo, and preceded them into the beautifully cleaned and polished front hall to hold the door open for them. "Though I do hope, Kili, that you'll help me with the dishes a little more than you did last time. Singing about destroying my property and gathering the dishes was helpful, to be sure, but actually helping me wash them would be very appreciated." 

Kili grinned sheepishly, glancing sideways at his wife. "I might have went along with it when Bofus suggested a little joke. It was all in good fun." 

"In good fun, because they didn't actually destroy any of my things," added Bilbo cheerfully. "Please, come in. I'll show you to your room, and if you like, we can move the table out into the garden. Supper under the stars sounds lovely." 

Tauriel followed the other two into the front hall, half crouching to ensure she wasn't in danger of bumping her head against the ceiling. Bilbo hurried off down the hall, and with her guests in tow, opened three doors on her way through the beautiful little hole. The sitting room, with its comfortable chairs. The kitchen, which smelled of fresh-baked bread and stew. And a bedroom, which had a mattress long enough for even Gandalf to stretch out on. There was no frame for the mattress, and it sat directly on the floor with plenty of pillows and blankets. 

"Since Gandalf stayed a week when we came back, I had this room set up for him. It'll suit you two nicely, I think, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like. Stow your things, and come find me in the kitchen when you're ready to move the table out-of-doors for supper." 

The Hobbit gave them a grin and a wink, then left them to settle in their new room. Tauriel watched her go, slowly closing the door as Bilbo passed down the hall and out of sight. 

"I don't understand this Hobbit friend of yours," she said at last, shrugging off the straps of her bag and setting it down against the wall under the single round window. She could see the garden outside the thick, bubbly glass, and smiled a little when she identified roses bobbing in the breeze just beyond the window. Flipping the latch, she rotated the window on its axis, letting in the scent of blooming roses and spring air. Winter in Rivendell had been nice, but it was a relief not to be there anymore. 

"I don't think any of us really understood her. Not even Uncle. No matter how much he wanted to." The sound of Kili's smile was fading as he spoke, and she turned to look at him, confirming that the shadow of grief that filled him every time his uncle came up in conversation was still as strong as ever. She couldn't claim to understand it - her family were dead, after all. But she did remember the look on King Thranduil's face when he told her not to return. That had been painful in a way she had never been able to understand. Perhaps that was part of the same thing. 

Tauriel shook her head a little, and her hair flicked at her wrists as she sat down on the mattress. It was soft, but comfortable and warm. It would be perfect for their first night in the Shire.

"I think she's just strange. Welcoming us into her home without even a question about the rest of your Company, showing such affection for an Elf she barely knows, and inviting us to stay with her indefinitely. No one is really that generous and forgiving, without also being very attached to her friends." She looked hard at Kili, who seemed to be engaged in studying the ceiling. 

At length, he nodded a little, his gaze sliding sideways to rest on her. "I know what you mean. And she is. But... she and Thorin didn't part on the best of terms, and I think that... hurt. More than she knows how to deal with. Anyway, it's not our business to try to mend things between her and Uncle. If he's ready to patch things up, he'll reach out to her." His expression said that he thought it unlikely. All the same, he gave her a smile and made himself shake away the shadow that had come between them. 

"Bilbo is really just that nice. You'll like her, and we can stay here until we've figured out something more permanent. So long as we help her with cleanup, I don't think she'll mind having us around."

As it turned out, he was absolutely right. The Hobbit seemed positively relieved to have company in her little house, and spent a great deal of time talking to them while she cleaned or cooked or gardened, and though she never asked them to help with anything other than cleaning up after meals, she was always grateful when they got involved. 

They had only been with Bilbo three days when their routine was interrupted one morning by a loud rapping on the kitchen window. THe Hobbit looked up with a frown. "Interrupting a meal. Rude." She got to her feet to look out the window, and almost immediately jerked away from the glass as it was suddenly obscured by a dark shape. Something hard tapped against the glass, and the dark shape disappeared again. 

"Mahal's curly beard!" swore Bilbo, in a quite passable imitation of Balin. Kili all but stuffed his fist in his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud, and Tauriel got carefully to her feet to step past the Hobbit and peer out the window. 

"It's a Raven," she reported, tension taking root in her chest. Swiftly, she unlatched the window and opened it, admitting the large black bird. The Raven landed on the kitchen table, knocking over a mug of tea and turning a beady eye on Kili. 

"A letter for Kili, son of Chali," croaked the bird. 

Bilbo scrambled to her feet, staring at the Raven on her table as she snatched a towel from the counter to clean up the spilled tea. Kili and Tauriel traded a look, eyebrows raised, and the elleth saw that her husband was pale under his dark beard. 

With shaking hands, he reached to the gold collar around the bird's throat, breaking the seal on the little tube that hung there and extracting a tightly-rolled length of paper. When he unrolled the paper, she saw his shoulders relax, and a relieved smile cross his face. 

"This is Mam's handwriting." He continued to unroll it, and a second piece of paper came loose from the first, falling to the floor. Tauriel stooped to pick it up, peering at the runes like spiky black insects on the page. 

"That's Fili's hand," observed Kili with a frown, looking over her shoulder at the new page. "Mam must be in Erebor." That made him anxious, and Tauriel could understand why. 

"What does your mother say?" she asked, allowing Fili's letter to spring back into a roll, hiding his words from Kili's eyes.

Kili reluctantly turned his attention back to the paper in his hand and started to read, his brow furrowed with anxiety. 

"She says she's going to cut off my ears if I don't have a good explanation for why we left, and that she expects to see both of us before first snow falls on the Mountain." Tauriel watched a pink flush creep across his cheeks. "And she says that if we have a child before she sees us again, she'll castrate me with a battle ax." 

A squeaky snort of laughter was the first Kili knew of Bilbo's interest in the subject. She popped up over the edge of the table with a wicked grin, and the Raven squawked in protest, extending its wings. 

"Sounds like your Mam knows what she's about," cackled the Hobbit. "I hope you two aren't trying too hard." She gave Kili a wink, laughing as he turned red as anything. 

Tauriel frowned slightly, intrigued by how these two were handling a topic she had honestly never contemplated. Bilbo, who had always struck her as prim and a little snooty was entertaining herself with bawdy implications at her friend's expense. Kili had always seemed so carefree and almost rude in his willingness to discuss personal matters, but now that the subject of children arose, he was surprisingly embarrassed. 

"I imagine that, should the matter become relevant, we'll handle it then." The elleth thought she'd spoken intelligently, but Bilbo's reaction was one of surprise disproportionate to the conversation. 

"Become relevant? I can't imagine how it wouldn't be. Do you mean you haven't discussed it at all?" Her expression of incredulous disbelief was almost humorous. Tauriel shook her head while Kili hid behind his mother's letter. 

"I'm not familiar with Hobbit customs, but neither Dwarves nor Elves have children quickly. This may not become relevant to us for another 50 years." Personally, she thought it would be perfectly alright if it never became relevant. She wasn't the sort of elleth that was at all suited to motherhood. The world would probably be better off if she never had any children of her own. 

Kili glanced at her, and she decided he would rather talk about this in private. "Anyway, it's not an issue just now. What else does the letter say, Kee?" From the relief in his face, she had made the correct choice. 

"She says she's talked to Uncle about us, and we won't be imprisoned if we come back. And if we don't come by first snow, she'll send Dwalin to fetch us back, whether we want to come or not. Says she has a right to meet her daughter." He let the letter roll back into its cylinder and sighed, shaking his head. "I don't understand. How could she have made Uncle change his mind? Or what if she hasn't, and Uncle's just afraid of getting his head twisted off if he doesn't do what she wants him to?" 

"You will send a reply?" The Raven sounded disgruntled, adjusting its wings fastidiously across its glossy back. This underground place wasn't at all a place where birds ought to be. 

"I... don't know. What did Fili write?" Kili reached for the second sheet, and Tauriel handed it over. Her grasp of Dwarven runes was still incomplete at best, and there were only a handful of words she could recognized by sight. 

Kili scanned the letter quickly, blinked, then reread it from the beginning. The Raven shifted impatiently on the table while Tauriel and Bilbo held still, watching Kili and waitin to hear what it was that Fili had written. 

"After what he said to you when you left... what else could he have to say?" asked Bilbo in a hushed voice, when the silence had stretched on for too long. 

"He... didn't mean it." Kili's hushed voice was thick with unexpected tears. Then haltingly, he read the letter out loud. 

_Dear Brother,_

_I am a coward. I wish I'd had the courage to stand up to Uncle before you left._

_I want you to know that those things I said - about you being a traitor and how it wouldn't work - I said those things because Uncle was listening. I didn't want to risk my position as his heir. It was stupid, and not worth it, and I miss you. I will be leaving Erebor soon after this letter is sent, and I'll go to Beorn's, and from there to Ered Luin. Hopefully, this good Raven will reach you in time, so you can meet me on the way. I'm to lead a new group of skilled workers over the Misty Mountains. Gain their confidence as the heir to the throne of Erebor or something like that._

_But I want you to know that Mam has broken me of lying to make Uncle happy. I am to be my own king before I lead anyone else._

_I pray you can forgive me my cowardice. I miss you, Brother._

_By my hand and hammer,_

_Fee_

Kili finished reading and set down the paper, letting it spring back into a roll. 

"You will send a reply?" repeated the Raven impatiently into the quiet of the warm air. 

Bilbo frowned at the bird. "Yes, we'll send a reply. Now, if you'll be so good as to remove yourself from my table, I'll be happy to spread some fish for you in the garden."

The Raven, with its stiff beak and beady eyes, somehow managed to look offended. Still, it fluttered through the window to perch out in the sunlight. 

"Bilbo." Kili looked up at the Hobbit as she moved to collect a whole fish from her larder for their guest. She turned to look at him, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to finish his question. "Would you... will you come with us? Please?" 

Immediately, Bilbo's expression closed down, like someone had closed the shutters behind her eyes. "I'm not welcome in the Mountain, Kili. You know that." 

"If anyone can change Uncle's mind, Bilbo, it's you. Please, Bilbo." 

"I can't, Kili." 

"I don't want to go back without you. I'd never forgive myself. It's not... home without you. You helped us win it back. Uncle was a fool to send you away, and he knows it. Please, Bilbo. Please come with us." 

Tauriel kept her mouth shut. The Mountain wasn't her home. Thorin wasn't her kin or her king. She had no say in this. But she could see that Bilbo wanted to go. 

The Hobbit busied herself with the fish and didn't speak again until she came back in from the garden. Then, finally, she looked at Kili. "I won't. Not unless Thorin says he wants me to come back. I won't force myself on him. I did it once, and I won't do it again." 

The muscles in Kilis jaw worked, and his eyes turned hard as he looked to his wife. 

"Get me paper and pen. I'm writing to Uncle." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any suggestions or requests, feel free to let me know! I have a running list of scenes/stories I want to write for these characters. I'm always happy to see feedback from my readers!  
> For more of my writing, check out my website! www.inkfire.net/


	5. A Mother's Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter 5 of 6! There's only one left, my friends. :)

Dust filled the air. The travelers all wore masks, scarves, or handkerchiefs tied across their faces. Each Dwarf, pony, ox, and cart was the same dull tan, as though the whole caravan had been painted with a single giant brush. Tauriel and Kili waited at the crossroads as the caravan trundled slowly past. 103 Dwarrow, 60 ponies, 36 oxen, and 9 carts. At least, that was what Fili's last letter had said. And the Dwarf at the caravan's head had told them Fili was riding in the back with the rear guard today. So they waited, and Bilbo hid in the bushes with their packs to protect herself from the majority of the dust. 

"Do you see him yet?" Kili lifted himself onto his toes, as though a higher vantage might help him see through the dust. Tauriel glanced at him, and then looked up as though to roll her eyes. She didn't, but it was a near thing.  

"Not even I can see through this, melleth nin. He'll find us. Don't worry." He couldn't help but snort and give her an impatient look. She knew perfectly well why he was so eager to see his brother. There was no reason to be so  _calm_  about it. 

A Dwarrow peeled off from the column and approached them, tugging on the thick fabric covering his nose and mouth. Only the dark eyes showed above through the mask of beige dust, and below the fabric (a scarf of indeterminate color) there was the outline of a dark beard. 

"Are you looking for someone?" 

Kili had been prepared to send the stranger away. After weeks in the Shire with nosey neighbors and well-meaning cousins and excitable friends from other streets, he was just about fed up with folk asking questions that had nothing to do with them. But at the sound of the Dwarrow's voice, a grin spread across his face. This one could ask all the questions she wanted.  

"Mam!" 

They collided in such a violent embrace that the pair of them fell hard to the dusty grass beside the road as Kili laughed like a madman, ecstatic to see his mother again. Tauriel was standing awkwardly to one side, and the Dwarrow passing along the road were shaking their heads in disapproval. Clearly, this sort of display was still frowned upon. Kili didn't care. As he pulled his mother to her feet, she punched his arm, though not nearly as hard as she might have. It only made his arm hurt, not go numb.

"Into the trees," said Dis through her mask, and gestured toward the bushes where their things were stowed. "I want to get out of this dust for a while." 

They eagerly acquiesced and retreated into the trees to join the Hobbit, who looked at them curiously. Dis pulled down her mask and tried unsuccessfully to scrub the dust from her beard. 

"You must be the halfling. The others told me about you." Dis' tone had lost its friendly warmth, and Kili shot her a sharp look. The dark eyes were hard over the soft mouth, now set into a thin line. He could guess what "the others" had told her, namely what Thorin had said about it before she'd left.

"Nothing bad, I hope," responded Bilbo, and though she smiled, Kili could see the tension in her posture. She was ready to bolt, like a rabbit staring down the bolt of a crossbow. 

"Mam, before you say anything about Bilbo or what she did, I want you to know that I've forgiven her completely and I trust her with my life." Kili paused significantly while his mother measured him with her eyes before continuing. "I should also tell you that Uncle has issued an official pardon and invited her back to the Mountain." 

Dis' eyebrows rose so high that they threatened to disappear into her hairline. "There's a story here I haven't heard. Tell me." 

Kili did, describing their arrival in Hobbiton, the arrival of Fili's first letter, their argument about whether or not Bilbo should come, her ultimatum, his reply, and finally Thorin's letter. When he reached that part, he looked at Bilbo for permission, and she reluctantly withdrew a battered envelope from her inside pocket. 

"It arrived a couple weeks ago," she admitted, her eyes on Dis as she handed the letter to Kili. "I hadn't really expected him to reply." 

"I wanted to make sure he really had changed his mind, and he wasn't just... doing what you wanted." Kili tilted his head apologetically toward his mother, knowing that she didn't like to be reminded how ingenuine people could be when she was about. She was a formidable woman, and there was nothing in her manner that encouraged folk to deny her with anything less than a deathwish. "Anyway, he wrote back, and this is what he said." Gently, he pulled the paper free of its envelope and offered it to her. She unfolded it, studying the signature for a long time before turning her attention to the body of the letter. It was pathetically short, but dirty and deeply creased from much handling and re-reading. 

* * *

_Thorin Thrainson Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, Raven Crowned, Lord of the Carven Throne,_

_to Burglar Baggins, Esquire, of Bag End, Hobbiton, the Shire._

_I write concerning the conditions of our parting some months past, which were less than ideal. There were hard feelings on both sides, and the words spoken under such circumstances are not those to be proud of. For this reason and on behalf of the Company that reclaimed Erebor from the Dragon Smaug, I would be honored to expect your presence under the Mountain for the winter holiday._

_In addition, I offer full pardon and immunity concerning actions taken against the Carven Throne and the Heirs of Durin prior to the destruction known as the Battle of the Five Armies. Any and all crimes perpetrated against Erebor and her folk at that time are heretofore forgiven and officially pardoned, never to be mentioned in a court of law in Erebor or elsewhere._

 

_By my hand and seal,_

_Thorin Oakenshield_

  

_Dictated to_

_Ori, son of Nothri_

 

 

_PS_

_~~Here in my own hand, I, Thorin Oake~~ _

_I would like to see you again._

_\- T_

* * *

Kili watched as his mother read the missive, her eyes flicking back and forth along the paper, and lingering on the final line. At length she lifted her gaze and let it rest on the Hobbit, who regarded her warily, like a rabbit might watch a dog that might at any moment break its rope and come tearing across the yard. Folding the letter carefully, she offered it back to the halfling. 

"It seems you've won over my brother. I don't know how, but I trust his judgement." Something about the way she said it seemed to indicate she didn't trust Thorin's judgement completely, but enough to let the matter rest for now. Kili gave his mother a relieved grin. 

"So, how's Fili doing?" 

The conversation moved apace, with Bilbo and Tauriel sitting quietly side by side and listening while the Dwarrow talked. After several pleasant minutes, Kili realized that he had never introduced his mother to his wife. Turning to the elleth, he extended a hand to her and smiled. She accepted his hand, but her expression was still - whether she was tense or just calm was hard to tell, but Kili forged ahead regardless. This was something that needed to happen, no matter what. 

"Mam, this is my wife, Tauriel. Tauri, this is my mother, Dis, daughter of Thrain. I think you can probably well where my good looks came from, yeah?" He was still grinning, too excited to keep himself under control. 

"I guessed as much," said Dis dryly, but she was smiling now, inclining her head politely to Tauriel. "It's good to finally meet you in the flesh. I've heard much about you." 

"I'm no judge of Dwarrow beauty," said Tauriel, smiling very faintly, "but I think your mother's features more refined than yours, my love." Her gentle teasing was well played, and Dis was startled into a laugh. 

"It's been a long time since I've had dealings with Elves of any sort. It's good to know you aren't all as awful as I remember." 

Tauriel nodded to her, and this time Kili could read cautious pleasure in her expression. 

When at length they were joined by Fili, there was much shouting and brotherly abuse, punching one another and grinning like maniacs until their mother joined them. She boxed both their ears smartly and left her sons reeling. 

"That's for running off on a suicidal quest without asking permission first," she told them firmly. 

"You already got me for that one!" whined Fili, sounding much younger than his neatly groomed beard implied. Tauriel covered her mouth with one hand to conceal her amusement, and Kili gave her a grin, massaging one of his ears as it rang painfully. His grin disappeared with Dis seized his other ear and twisted. 

"And  _that's_  for not writing home in all the months since you left. You might have died, and I never would have known. I love you dearly, son-of-my-husband, but sometimes I want to twist your ears clean off."

"Ow ow ow ow OW! Mam, I'm sorry, please stop - OW my ear-"

It took some time for them to settle after that, but in time the five of them took their gear and loaded it onto Fili's sturdy pony. They took to the road, each tying a scarf or handkerchief across his or her face. It would be a long journey, but they were with family now, and things would work out. 

* * *

The journey was long, whether it was measured in miles, or in weeks, or in tales told by the fire at night. Tauriel had been more or less universally accepted among the caravan as a good warrior and loyal to Kili, and if they weren't comfortable talking to her, at least they didn't drop casual insults as they passed. The caravan reached Erebor at the turn of the seasons, the long dry spell finally broken by autumn rains, the heat lessened by cool northern winds. Dis and her family stood beside the path, counting Dwarrow, animals, and carts as they trundled past and across the bridge to the gate. Bilbo huddled inside her sodden cloak, looking about as miserable as a cat in the bath. 

Kili stepped back to stand at her side and nudged her gently. "Cheer up, Boggins," he said with a grin. "Just a few more minutes, and we can go inside to hot baths and a hot meal and clean, warm clothes. Think about that, and just ignore the rain." Almost as soon as he finished speaking, he realized that the rain wasn't what was depressing her spirits. They had reached the end of their journey, and she might yet be turned away, just as Tauriel might.

"A hot bath sounds nice," she admitted after a long silence, and when he peeped under her hood, he saw that she was doing her best to smile. Kili put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a friendly shake. 

"That's the spirit. We've got you, Bilbo. Nothing's gonna change that." 

"I know. Thank you, Kili." 

The last of the carts passed them, and Dis led the way as they swung into line behind the final pony and their single lame ox. It had taken a fall while crossing the river, and hadn't been quite sound since then. But when only one ox out of 36 was lamed in a journey that took four and a half months, it was an overwhelming success. They hadn't even needed to slaughter it for meat. 

As they approached Erebor's impressive main entrance, they saw a small crowd of servants near the wall, trickling toward the caravan one at a time to tend to the travelers and escort them to their quarters. Three, more richly dressed than the others, had spotted them already, and stepped out into the rain to meet them. 

"Rooms first," said Dis sternly as they stepped through the towering bronze gates. "Baths, dinner, and fresh clothes. We're not even looking in the direction of any nobility until after I have this mud and dust out of my beard." 

"And... then what?" Bilbo was the one that asked. She had pushed her hood back, and water sparkled in her curly hair as she looked at Dis, her face pale in the lamplight. 

"Then we get to beat some sense into my brother's thick skull." Dis grinned, as though the thought pleased her. "Enjoy your supper, Baggins." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a blast writing these, and I hope you're having fun reading them, too. If there's a scene or story you'd like to see me write, feel free to let me know in the comments below! 
> 
> And if you're hankering to see more of my writing, check out my website; www.inkfire.net!


	6. An Uncle's Anger

They were here. He knew they were, because his guards had reported that the caravan, including his sister and nephews, had arrived safely. But rather than coming to seek him out, they had gone to their chambers, and each of those he had hoped to see asked for supper delivered to their quarters rather than joining the rest of the Dwarrow in the dining hall. He waited at the high table, too tense to eat, watching and waiting for them. But they didn't come. When at last he admitted to himself that Dis wasn't coming to see him, and neither were the boys, or anyone else he wanted to see, he stood with a sigh. A noble who had been talking to him with very little success for the last half hour fell silent as his king got to his feet. 

"I suppose we'll continue our talk another time, my lord," murmured the Dwarrow, standing ceremoniously and offering a slight bow, as was required of any Dwarrow speaking to their king. 

Thorin looked at him for a moment, trying to remember his name. R... something. Roset? Or Rowan? He couldn't recall. With a shake of his head, he made a slight dismissive gesture. "You can speak with the Seneschal on the morrow. I'm afraid I'll have little time to complete our talk." That, and he hadn't been listening to a word the Dwarrow had said. 

He could see the disappointment in the noble's face, but knew the Dwarrow would no more protest than cut off his own beard. Perhaps he would make an effort to ask Balin what the Dwarrow wanted, if he remembered tomorrow. 

Retreating to his chambers, Thorin fingered the empty sleeve of his tunic, folded neatly and pinned up against his right shoulder. Sometimes he thought he could still feel an ache in his right hand, like he had been holding tight to something for too long. He had last felt a pain like that after the Battle, in the Healers' tent when they had pried his sword from his hand. It had hurt, and uncurling his fingers had taken almost an hour. An hour in which he had waited for Bilbo to come. He had wanted to apologize, but she had never come to him. 

Once, just once, he had thought he heard her voice. It had been dark, and he had been deep in a fever dream just before waking to the thick, hot blackness inside the tent. Disoriented with fever, he had heard her say; "I'm sorry, Thorin." But he had never been truly convinced that she had really been there. No one had seen her, and he had never been able to talk to her and ask if she'd come to see him. A part of him hoped it hadn't just been part of the dream. But it had been Kili, not Bilbo, that had written to him, asking for permission for her to return. 

And Bilbo had never answered his letter. 

What if the "small person" his sister had come back with was a young Dwarrow, not the halfling? What if his burglar wasn't here, and would never be? 

He pushed open the door to his study, which was really the antechamber to his personal bedroom, and stopped. 

Dis was seated on the edge of his desk. She had a knife in one hand, and was shaping a piece of wood, leaving slivers and shavings all over his expensive wool carpet. 

"Sister." Thorin's voice was heavy, as though his tongue were too thick for his mouth. 

"Brother." She looked up at him and smiled a little, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." Sliding down from the desk, she landed with a thump, and set down her wood on the polished surface, sheathing her knife. "Is all well in the Mountain?" 

That wasn't what he wanted her to say, but Thorin's mouth opened with the answer all the same. "All is well." 

A slight pause followed, pregnant with expectation. Dis smirked a little. "Afraid to ask, Brother?" 

Thorin said nothing. 

"My son is here. Both of them are, in fact. One of them has his One with him. They are in the royal chambers two doors down from mine. Between us, there's a halfling who claims to carry a letter of pardon from you. If she's the halfling I heard about from the rest of the Company, she's not welcome here. Neither is my son's One. Has that truly changed?" Her eyes were sharp, glittering threateningly like the razor edge of a mithril blade. 

Thorin was again silent. He should have spoken. But there were so many words pressing at his fumbling tongue that nothing would come clearly of it, so he kept his silence. He could only hold his sister's gaze for a handful of heartbeats, then he looked away. 

She didn't force him. Patiently, feet planted solidly on the expensive rug, she waited for his answer. 

"I sent the pardon," he said at last, forcing his tongue to behave, "because I felt it was the right thing to do. The elf will not be driven away, as agreed before you left." 

"But are they welcome?" she pressed, as unyielding as the granite of the Mountain's southern face. 

Thorin clenched his teeth, working his jaw for a moment before speaking. "Yes. They are welcome." 

"Good. Remember that when they come to see you tomorrow. A private audience, if you please. After breakfast. I've already spoken with Balin to clear your schedule for the morning." 

Of course she had. She could bend the Misty Mountains to her will if she wished it. Why would a few Dwarrow and their laws resist her? She was striding toward the door when he spoke again. 

"You should have been king."

He heard her boots stop. She wasn't yet at the door, and he could tell she had stopped for him. A blanket of silence fell over them, smothering his thoughts until only those words remained. Dis should have been king. 

"No," she said at last, and her voice was a husky whisper. "My skills are for a time of peace. No one but you could have brought us through the war whole." 

Then she closed the distance to the exit, and the latch fell into place with a quiet click as the door swung to behind her. He was left alone, wondering if his people were truly whole. 

* * *

The audience chamber was nearly empty. Footsteps and whispers echoed dramatically from walls and floor until their whole party were gathered in the side chamber, a council room where the king might gather his trusted advisors when what they had to say wasn't meant for public ears - which was almost always. Thorin listened to the clomp of boots, the pad of soft elven shoes, and strained his ears to hear the whisper of Hobbit feet. As usual, he could hear nothing of the Hobbit's approach until she entered the room and the sound of her gently rustling clothing became audible. 

The king watched her for a long minute, but Bilbo neither spoke nor looked at him, and eventually he turned his gaze to the others in the room. Dis stood near the door, arms folded and feet spread. Fili stayed close to his brother, and Kili held the hand of a tall, red-haired she-elf. Balin sat on a bench against the wall until he spotted Bilbo, lurking behind Tauriel. The old Dwarrow sprang to his feet and surged forward with a glad cry. Grasping Bilbo's hand, he wrung it with energy and sincerity, smiling under his white beard. 

"I knew you'd come back. I just knew it. And now that you're here, we can have a proper celebration." Balin straightened and looked at his king, only then seeming to realize that Thorin hadn't moved or spoken. As usual, the one-armed Dwarrow had a stoic expression on his face. Nothing could break through the crunchy outer shell to what lay underneath. Not anymore. 

Balin cleared his throat. "We should let the kitchens know. This is a cause for feasting." 

The room went silent as they all waited for Thorin to answer. The king's gaze lingered first on the Hobbit, then on the Elf, a wary shadow in his eyes. After a minute, he nodded a little. "Yes. See to it, Balin." 

The atmosphere relaxed perceptibly, and Kili gave his uncle a nervous grin. "So you've really changed your mind, then?" 

Thorin's mouth thinned into a tight line that couldn't have said "no" more clearly than if he'd spoken aloud. He didn't speak aloud, though, either to confirm or deny any change of mind. Kili flushed, and his free hand balled into a tight, thick fist. 

"We come all this way - again - just to see you, and you're not even willing to say-" The young Dwarrow stopped when his wife and brother each put a restraining hand on him. He choked on the words he hadn't yet said, but fell silent. 

Fili looked at his mother, then at his brother, and finally at his uncle, his expression hardening into a look of determination. "Uncle, you can't take back your word. Not now." 

Thorin sighed gruffly through his nose and looked away. "You are welcome in the Mountain." He spoke low and quiet, though not as though he wished not to be overheard. It was more like he was admitting a mistake and disliked the confession. "We are family, blood traitor or no, and this Mountain is our home. You fought to keep it free from Orc filth, and you earned your places here." 

Though the words were sincere, Kili still looked angry. "I'm still a blood traitor?" he asked, his voice as hard as his expression. 

"You married an Elf," snapped Thorin, his stoicism breaking under the strain of the accusation in Kili's tone. "What do you expect of me?" 

"I  _expect_  you to realize I love her the same way you favor a Hobbit!" snarled Kili, now straining against Tauriel, who was physically holding him back. "It doesn't matter that she's an Elf or a Hobbit or a Human or a gold-mad Dragon - what matters is that I love her, and we've made the choice to stay together." 

Thorin took a step forward, bringing his arm up as though to protect his torso. "It does matter-" he began hotly, but stopped when Kili pointed violently back toward where Bilbo was hiding behind Tauriel. 

"Then why did you bring her back?! Were you just going to say 'thanks for all you did, now you can go back home'? She came because she loves you!" Kili's voice had risen to a shout, and in the ringing silence that followed his words, he sagged against Tauriel's hands, letting her pull him back a step or two. 

"She... never replied to my letter." Thorin's protest was weak at best, but when he glanced toward Bilbo, she hid her face from him. 

"Would you have, Brother, after being thrown from the wall and exiled?" Dis' voice was hard, but she stayed by the door. 

"I didn't-" started Thorin, and Dis interrupted him with a snort. 

"You might as well have. Even Dwalin doesn't hang people over the parapet." 

Thorin twitched. The comparison wasn't a fair one, and she knew it. Dis didn't withdraw her words, though. She let them hang in the air between them, daring him to reply. If he had courage, if he were more sure of his own mind, then he would have. But there was nothing in his heart but cowardice. He looked down, studying the thin rug under his boots for a long time before speaking. 

"I was wrong. It was a terrible thing to do, and I've wanted to apologize since the Battle ended. But I saw her not, and haven't heard her voice in anything but dreams since she was banished. The Burglar committed crimes of treason against the crown, but it was in ignorance, and I have pardoned her... with every breath since my first as a free Dwarrow." 

His admission was met with a beat of silence, and the Elf was the one the broke it first. Releasing her husband, she stepped forward and knelt so she was at eye-level with the king. 

"If you decide I am not welcome here, Kili and I will leave. Know this: that if we are banished from the Mountain, we will be exiles twice, and neither we nor our children will be granted home or sanctuary among our own people. That is the legacy we will bear, should that be your choice. But I will not fight it." 

Thorin listened quietly to her smooth voice and concluded (not for the first time) that this former Forest Guard Captain was one of the few decent Elves he'd ever met. She was almost Dwarrow in her acceptance of authority and fate. 

After a minute, he sighed. "I will not exile you or Kili. I don't like you. Maybe I never will. But I ended your exile last winter. You're welcome in this place as long as you choose to stay." He paused and looked first at his sister, then (hesitantly) at the Hobbit. Left without an Elf to hide behind, Bilbo stood in the open, awkwardly shifting her weight from one large, hairy foot to the other. 

"Forgive an old fool," he said quietly, and wished no one but her would hear the words. "If more of us prized food and drink above hoarded gold, the world would be a better place. On my honor, I wrote the truth when I said... I wanted to see you again." 

The silence only lasted for two heartbeats, both of which Thorin could feel in his throat. He hadn't felt so vulnerable since the Battle, when he'd stared into the ice-chip eyes of the Pale Orc and known he faced death as never before. Now, facing the sort of isolation he feared more even than death, he knew that this little Hobbit, the Burglar, the female that had bewitched him in Mirkwood, held his life in her soft hands. 

"I can't say there's nothing to forgive," she said at length, "but I can offer my forgiveness. We both made mistakes. All we can do now is to do better in the future." Her voice grew faint at the end, as though 'the future' were a frightening thing. But with courage in her face, she took a pace forward, and Thorin moved to meet her, brushing past the elf and his nephew to reach her. 

Out of the corner of his eye, as the Hobbit fit herself under his arm and hugged him tightly, he saw Dis smirking. It was an "I told you so" expression. She was going to be insufferable after this. But at least he had his Burglar back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand that's the end! *dramatic musical flourish* I hope you enjoyed the tale. It was certainly fun for me. :) In the near-ish future, you can expect more stories, excerpts from the diary of a certain Hobbit, and possibly a Game of Thrones commission for those that enjoy that kind of thing. :) 
> 
> You can find this story and more on my website, www.inkfire.net!


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